


Falling Inside the Black

by FallenShandeh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agent!Dean, Alternate Universe, BAMF!Cas, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fem!Cas, Hitman!Dean, Undercover!Dean, Unhappy Ending, fbi!cas, mafia!dean, ooc!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2097090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenShandeh/pseuds/FallenShandeh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Castielle Novak has been the head of a major investigation for a while now. She's getting very close to taking down the Don of the Vegas branch of the Mafia.</p><p>Her boss, Bobby Singer, has decided once again to force her to work with a partner. This one doesn't leave her with a great first impression, but she doesn't have a choice. She's going to be busted back to the Academy - therefore kicked off her case - if she protests. So she decides to put up with him.</p><p>Meanwhile, an undercover agent working deep within the same branch of the Mafia is drawing attention for all the wrong reasons. Perhaps he's so damn good at his job he even has his handlers fooled. Perhaps he's gone rogue. Cas knows he's there, but she doesn't know who he is, and the one man she thinks she can rule out completely might very well be the man she should look at most closely.</p><p>The one she's ruled out is a green-eyed, freckle-faced assassin going by the name 'Daniel Wesson', and she IS looking closely at him... but not because he's a person of interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Inside the Black

**Author's Note:**

> I can't guarantee I'll ever actually finish this. I don't have an exact goal for number of words or chapters and my life is in the process of changing in a big way. But I got an idea for an FBI type AU fic and then I got a request for fem!Cas, and this happened. Yes, I know Cas is incredibly out of character, she's meant to be.

Information on mobsters was hard to come by. Information on Daniel Wesson was even harder. On a scale of one to ten, one being some teenage lout and ten being a man who had never existed, he was at least a nine and a half.

Agent Castielle Novak was almost certain the name was an alias. Who he might _really_ be, she had no clue, but he probably had a rap sheet a mile long.

Wesson was something else. He wasn't just a hitman. The man was an assassin. The informant had him pegged as the most lethal man to have ever belonged to the Vegas section of the Mafia. Perhaps the deadliest in the country.

Cas speculated Wesson was possibly the most dangerous man in the world.

But that wasn't why Novak was interested in the guy. The freckled face that stared at her out of the photograph in Wesson's file belonged to an educated man - not unusual in the mob, but something didn't quite fit and Cas couldn't put her finger on what, exactly, it was. There was something about that face that seemed strangely at odds with the number of people Daniel Wesson had murdered.

The only thing Novak knew was that there was absolutely no way Wesson was the FBI agent working deep within the mob. Feds nearly always avoided the killing. His skills as a hitman were why the guy was as high-ranked as he was.

Cas sensed more than heard the door open, immediately snapping her laptop shut. Her work was for her own eyes only, and an unlocked door might admit anyone. Much to her dismay, _anyone_ most often meant the last person she ever wanted to see.

"Singer wants you to take a partner on this one, Novak," an irritatingly familiar voice informed her. "Me."

"Never going to happen, Novak," Cas growled. She was _not_ taking a partner. Any partner, but least of all her brother. Pranks had no place in a federal investigation and Gabriel had _no_ concept of self-control. "I work best on my own."

"Stubborn as always," Gabe said, grinning. "You'd rather Ruby."

Cas refused to respond to that. She would have preferred anyone over her annoying twin brother. If she had to pick, her first choice wasn't even FBI. Her name was Meg. She was CIA and wasn't technically allowed to operate within the States, but had worked with Cas on a couple of big cases. To say they'd worked well together was an understatement.

Ruby, on the other hand, was yesterday's news. Gabe thought there was something in it but Cas knew better; two people who hated each other as much as she and Ruby did would never be able to work together. Yes, they had _slept_ together once… but they had both been very drunk. It was one night and she didn't intend to repeat it.

Ever.

"We don't talk about Ruby," she grumbled, turning the full force of her impressive scowl upon her brother. "Get out of my office. Don't come back. If Singer wants to kick my ass, he has to do it himself."

"Cas-"

"Out," Cas snarled. She was busy. She had no time for Gabe and his games.

"Shame all the cute ones are criminals." Gabe grinned and retreated before Cas could get her handgun free of its holster.

"One of these days I swear I'll shoot you," Cas muttered to the empty room.

Gabe wasn't the only one in the Bureau who knew Cas wasn't particular when it came to gender. By now, pretty much everyone she had ever worked with had some idea. It wasn't something that had ever come up in conversation, but it wasn't, as far as Cas was concerned, anything to be ashamed of, either.

She had to admit, Gabe was right. Daniel Wesson was a very attractive man. It really was a shame about his criminal activities.

Cas rolled her shoulders back and sat up as tall as she could, stretching out her pecs and the muscles between her ribs.

 _"Intercostal muscles,"_ her mind-Gabe reminded her a little too gleefully.

"Think I need another triple-shot espresso," she grumped in response. Two days of no sleep at all really took its toll after two _weeks_ of four hours a night at the very most. But she was too busy for sleep. Even when she did try, the best she could manage was laying awake with her mind ticking over on the case.

The _only_ time her brain would shut up about the mob was when someone else was in bed _with_ her, and she had learned first try not to bother with finding someone to pick up. They would only leave, disappointed, when she zonked out before things even had a chance to get frisky.

Cas hummed thoughtfully and opened her laptop back up, forcing her eyes to stay away from the green pair that belonged to that handsome freckled face. By now Wesson's intense gaze was burned into her brain.

Before long her fingers flew across the keyboard, tapping keys so rhythmically it reminded her of the drumming in her favorite song. Which of course promptly started to play inside her head.

_Falling in the black_

_Slipping through the cracks_

_Falling to the depths_

_Can I ever go back?_

_Dreaming of the way_

_It used to be_

_Can you hear me?_

"I'm not even usually a field agent," she muttered to herself, well aware that wasn't _quite_ accurate. She'd worked in the field a lot more than she should have considering she was technically a paper pusher. And it would continue to work that way. Singer liked having an agent as flexible as Cas. That was the one thing wrong with Gabe as far as the Bureau was concerned - _that_ Novak didn't have the patience for office work.

Cas understood why Singer would want her to work with her brother. On paper they'd make a perfect team. Unfortunately Singer didn't know about Gabe's unfortunate tendency to forget he was a professional when it came to pranking Cas, and when things went wrong for Castielle Novak, they invariably went wrong in a very big way.

Her phone beeped and then a little popup in the bottom right hand corner of her laptop screen informed her she had mail. She clicked on it to open the email.

 

_Sender: B. Singer_

_To: C. Novak_

_My office. Five minutes. You're getting a partner whether you want one or not._

_-Singer_

 

Cas groaned. Her phone beeped again and the little popup reappeared. Same deal.

 

_Sender: B. Singer_

_To: C. Novak_

_Listen to this one. He knows his shit._

_-Singer_

 

Cas password locked her laptop and stood up. When Singer started swearing, things were about to get serious. Continuing to disobey the man was a very bad idea.

So why did it seem like the exact opposite was true? Cas didn't want a partner. Never had. She'd never played well with others. Disobeying Singer on this one thing felt like an excellent idea. The mob was too important and Cas was getting far too close to risk friction with a partner getting in the way of her doing her job.

Singer's office wasn't far from Cas's, but it was better to be early when it came to dealing with superiors, so thirty steps and under a minute later, Cas stopped and knocked on the door.

"Come in already, y'idjit," Singer told her.

Cas pushed the door open, entered, and sat down, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Sir."

"Your new partner gets here in four minutes, Novak. I don't understand your refusal to work with your brother, but I'll accept it. Now, this guy, he's not gonna take any shit from you. He's not gonna care that you're my best. You will work as a team."

Cas frowned. Singer wasn't going to listen to reason on this one. She'd always managed to talk sense into the man in the past but this time something told her not to bother trying. "Yes, sir. But if he gets in my way I'll shoot first, ask questions later. He won't take shit from me? Well, I won't take it from him either."

"That's my girl," Singer said with an approving, almost paternal smile.

Cas had once told Gabe that if Singer was anybody else she might find him creepy, but he seemed fatherly and was definitely harmless.

A companionable silence fell, broken only when, a few minutes later, a firm rap on the door made her jump.

"C'mon in, Winchester," Singer called out.

The man who entered the office was a familiar sight but Cas had never seen him up close. His height was such that the top of his head brushed the doorway on his way in, and then he somehow managed to fold himself up into one of Singer's uncomfortable chairs without too much apparent difficulty.

She had no idea how he got away with that hair. Regs stated that men's hair should be short and away from the face and ears, and sideburns should never reach below the earlobe. Winchester had shoulder-length hair and his sideburns were a quarter-inch too far down his face.

"Agent Novak, I'd like you to meet Agent Winchester, your new partner." Singer's voice pulled her away from thoughts of dress code breaches and how if this guy broke one rule he might need babysitting.

She nodded to Winchester. "Call me Cas. Everyone else does."

"I'm Sam," the long-haired moose-like man told her. "I normally work with my brother but he's in deep at the moment on a solo case."

Cas shrugged. She didn't care about Winchester or his brother. She just wanted to get close to the Don without getting herself killed. "Yeah, great, see, here's the thing. You aren't my friend. I don't want to know about your family. Chances are you're gonna get in my way and I'm gonna shoot you the moment that happens so I don't have time to give a- ahem, an aviating intercourse-" Singer didn't like anyone but himself dropping F-bombs in his office "-about you or anything to do with you."

"Right," Winchester said. He didn't seem bothered. That was a first. Cas wondered how he would react the first time she threatened to rip his balls off and shove them down his throat. Most of them didn't like that idea very much.

"You'll learn soon enough that I'm not kidding," she said cheerfully. "I don't play well with others."

"It's all talk. You don't like letting people get close. The only person you're even remotely close to is your brother. It's a bit hard for you not to be, considering you're twins, but it's more than that. You were each other's lifeline for a long time." Sam paused, hazel eyes on Cas's blue pair.

Cas just frowned at him, head tilted. "I dare you to keep going, moose-boy."

"If you insist," Sam replied, a challenge in his eyes. "Something happened about… eight, nine years ago. It deeply affected you both."

"Ten years ago, and Gabe wasn't involved, he ran away," Cas said fiercely. "I kept him out of it. I kept him safe."

With that one small correction, Cas had just told Sam Winchester more than she'd told anybody. Ever. Only Gabe knew more. Gabe knew everything. He had, for probably the only time in his life, just listened when Cas sat him down and let the words tumble out. No smart remarks, no pranks, for once her twin brother had been an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on.

"You were sixteen," Sam observed. "And it did affect him, purely by happening to you. Whatever it was, it haunts you both."

"If you want to know, look up my file," Cas snapped, standing quickly but gracefully. Winchester stood as well. Even on ridiculous office-wear-only heels, Cas only came up to moose-boy's chin. Irritating. Her five-three was perfectly average, thank you very much. She didn't much appreciate having to work with someone who made her feel like a midget. She turned, about to walk out on her new partner.

Bobby Singer's voice froze her in her tracks. "Novak."

"Sir," she said stiffly.

"Do you need to speak to Shurley?"

The psychiatrist? Hell no. Chuck was alright but Cas counted him among her few friends and that friendship would be put in peril if he tried to psychoanalyse her. "No, sir. I don't like being read like a book. Especially not considering how much time I've put into training myself _not_ to have tells."

"Winchester is one of my best," Singer informed her. "I'd be concerned if he couldn't read you. He's had special training too. So eat yourself some concrete and harden the fuck up."

Cas nodded and sat back down. "Yes, sir."

She wanted to protest, or to continue out the door, but Singer was one of those leaders, the type nobody wanted to question. Arguing with him, especially when he used _that_ tone, was like running a marathon in full snow gear. In the height of summer. In Death Valley.

"Winchester," Singer growled.

Moose-boy folded his ridiculously long limbs back up, settling into the chair he had vacated just thirty seconds ago. "Sir."

"I just told Agent Novak you're one of my best. But don't you ever think about trying to use that as leverage. Novak _is_ my best. She'll kick your ass into next year if you challenge that. I won't have power struggles. Don't take any shit from her but always remember this is _her case_ and if I hear one single complaint from her about you not listening I'll staple you to a desk. This case is important. Career-making if you get it right. Stakes are high. Agents have died. If you fuck this up, you won't live long enough to know I'm pissed off. They'll disappear you so damn fast your head will spin. Once. Then it'll roll. Got it?"

Winchester nodded. "Yes, sir. I understand."

Cas relaxed a little. Every agent was Singer's bitch in some way or another; not all were as receptive to following Cas's orders but moose-boy would fall into line fast. He seemed more than content to follow a leader. There was a vaguely lost look to him. It reminded her of a six-year-old who had wandered away from Mommy but was too busy being fascinated by something to panic.

She must have let a little bit too much smugness show because Singer then rounded on her.

“That doesn’t mean you get to make Winchester your bitch. I expect you two to work as equals. You don’t get to give him all the shitty jobs and take all the decent ones for yourself.”

“Yes, sir.” As much as she fully intended to flout that order, she wouldn’t dare protest it to Singer’s face.

“I’ll bust your ass back to the Academy before you can say ‘but sir’ if you do.”

Well, that put an end to _that_ plan. God fucking dammit. She was too near closing this case to risk being kicked off it now. There was nothing to do but submit to Singer’s will. It was always going to happen, but she would have liked to have kept up at least some semblance of independent will. She was one of the few with the balls to defy Singer on anything. It was why she was the best.

Finally, she responded with a grudging, “Yes, sir.”

“Now that we’re all clear on that, you need to bring Winchester up to speed. Dismissed.”

What? She’d never had to brief any of the partners she’d been forced into working with before. She was babysitting. Swallowing her distaste, she stood and left, moose-boy in tow. This wasn’t cool. She worked well on her own. Better.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, stalking into her office. She let the door swing rather than holding it for Winchester, but the moose saw it coming.

“I know a little of what I’m in for,” he said.

“You have no fucking clue,” Cas growled, shoving four files at him. “They all worked this case before you. They all died. So will you, in all likelihood. _Read_.”


End file.
